Not in Kansas Anymore
by EmpressVoodoo
Summary: Summary: On the anniversary of Julia's death, Nick takes a personal retreat where he meets Hunters Sam and Dean Winchester. The trio soon find themselves in an alternate reality where they are wanted by The Legacy for a crime they did not commit. This reality was created by a Trickster working with an old nemesis of Nick's: the Succubus Karen.
1. Prologue

The demon who called herself Karen Morgan moved through the fog covering the docks of San Francisco with a predatory stride. Water dripped from her clothes, her hair, and the last remnant of the manacle encircling her left wrist. Grasping it with her right hand, she wrenched the rusted metal off and dropped it to the ground. Two years, she thought angrily, two years she'd spent trapped at the bottom of the bay. Her stomach cramped violently. God, she was hungry. And with the hunger came the memories; bittersweet memories of the man who'd put her there: Nick Boyle. She remembered when she first saw him in the diner in Crest

Ridge. Sitting alone in the booth, staring at the picture of Julia, the woman he'd loved, whose death he still blamed himself for.

"What can I get you? I can recommend the Roast Beef Special. Tried it myself, and I'm a vegetarian."

The look of shock, then pain on his face when for a split second he saw her as Julia. Not that she hadn't seen surprise in the eyes of hundreds of men in her time, but something about the pain in his eyes touched her as no other had. A small part of her hated him for that. But a larger part of her loved him still. And she knew he had loved her too, irregardless of what he had said to her the night he sent her into watery oblivion.

"You're a murderer."

She could still feel the softness of his lips on hers, before he clamped the cold manacles over her wrists. Could still see the hatred in his eyes as she slid across the dock and down into the frigid water. And still she loved him. Still she craved him. Her stomach cramped again. She needed to feed. Now. The sound of voices several feet away caught her attention. Turning towards the direction they came from she saw a building with lights emanating from its windows. As she approached, she saw the name of the establishment through the thinning fog, The Breakwater Club. A fisherman's bar. Perfect, she thought as she walked through the door. A smorgasbord.

_

The Trickster sat alone in the back corner of the bar, nursing his second beer and his bruised ego. Absently he rubbed the spot on his chest where Dean Winchester had not so long ago plunged a stake into. The Winchester brothers. Stupid interfering bastards. He'd had a good thing going before they'd screwed it up and tried to kill him. Now here he was in San Francisco, far away from them, sitting in a dive bar feeling sorry for himself. Movement at the door caught his eye and he looked up. Cowabunga! He thought as stared at the woman who walked through the door. Golden long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, big blue eyes, and those breasts. Two queen-size pillows a man could rest his head upon, nestled comfortably in the low cut neckline of a very high cut red dress. He was so caught up in staring at her 'pillows' he didn't realize she was headed toward his table until she sat down in the chair across from him.

"Hi there." She said, her voice a deep, husky whisper.

"H-hi." He replied, his gaze still fixed on her breasts.

"My eyes are up here." She placed her right hand in front of her breasts with the index finger pointed upward.

His eyes jerked upward. "Of course, and what beautiful eyes they are."

She smiled wryly. "I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone." She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. "I'm feeling pretty lonely myself tonight. What do you say we find someplace to be alone?"

I've got to be dreaming, the trickster thought as he stared at the woman across from him. Of course if I am I'd be pretty stupid not to take her up on her offer. He stood and held a hand out to her. "My mother told me to always give a lady what she wants. After you."

Karen rose, smiling. So easy she thought, it was always so easy.

They found a deserted fishing boat about twenty feet away from the bar and stepped on board.

"So, what's your name?" he asked as they moved toward the back of the boat out of sight of the bar and anyone who might be walking the pier.

She turned toward him and flashed a sexy smile. "What do you want it to be?" she asked in a sultry tone. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him toward her until they were chest to breasts. "Do we really need names?"

"No." He replied before she covered his mouth with hers. God, she tasted good he thought, before he felt it. The energy drain. A deep low growl emanated from her throat. He opened his eyes to see hers glowing. Before she could begin draining his life force, he grabbed her by the shoulders and thrust her away from him. The glow in her eyes faded to show an angry, confused look in her now brown eyes. The blonde hair was now brown and the slinky red dress replaced by a blue button-up shirt and dark skirt.

Succubus, he thought disgustedly, I should have known. She lunged at him, a scream ripping from her throat and he shoved her back again. "Listen sweetie, this ain't gonna work out. You're an immortal creature, I'm an immortal creature. As good a meal as I'd make for you, you can't kill me."

She continued to stare at him with confused, hostile eyes. "Why didn't I sense you?" She moved toward him and sniffed. "You smell human."

He sighed "I'm a trickster. I can make myself appear, smell and taste however I want. I can create whatever environment I want." To illustrate is point, he snapped his fingers and the fishing boat became a yacht, with a table for two complete with tablecloth, wine flutes and wine chilled in a bucket sat on the deck a few feet away from them. He turned to her. "Impressive, huh?" He snapped again and the fishing boat returned. "Now." He began as he reached up to straighten his collar. "As fun as this was going to be, I think I'll just go back to my beer and my brooding." He turned to leave, and she grabbed his arm.

"Wait." He turned back to face her, a patient if slightly annoyed expression on his face. "This trick you do, can you do it to anyone?"

"Yes."

She stepped toward him, rubbing his arm seductively. "I think we might be able to help each other."

He stepped back, raising his hands in front of him. "Look, I already told you, you can't kill me, and I can't trust you not to try, so I don't see what we could possibly do for each other."

She remained where she stood, pointing at his chest. "You've been injured recently. I felt it. So have I. We could help each other get back at the ones who hurt us."

Intrigued, the trickster sat on a nearby crate and looked up at her. "What did you have in mind?"


	2. Chapter 1

Nick, drenched from the torrential rainfall, stared down at the rotting corpse of the demon he chased from Rachel Corrigan's room at the Connemara Inn. He glanced up as Derek moved past him toward the field. Nick swung his eyes in the direction he was moving and saw what held his precept's gaze. The scarecrow. Dread crept up his spine. He jumped over the fence after Derek and walked with him toward the dark figure. As they reached it, lightning split the sky and the horrific scene in front of them. Julia hung suspended from the wooden cross, blood trickling down her face, dead eyes staring blankly ahead.

"NO!" Nick screamed, dropping to his knees and turning his face into Derek's coat. The lightning flashed again. He was in his room. Julia, wet and bloodied at the foot of his bed. "You let me die, Nick." she said in an accusatory tone. "Why did you let me die?" Lightning flashed again. Her features changed, morphed into a hideous mask of outrage.

"No!" He screamed again, and shot up from his pillow. He was drenched in sweat. He looked to the window of his room, saw rivulets of water stream down the pane. A storm was raging outside. One was raging inside him. He turned and looked at the bedside clock. 4:43 am. Today was the anniversary, her anniversary. Julia. That explained the dream, he thought to himself. He rubbed a hand across his forehead and down his cheek. Knowing he was not going to be able to sleep again, that his bags were already packed, he kicked the bedding off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With the storm outside, he couldn't go for a run, but he could take a swim in the pool. It would help take the edge off his tension and help him pass time until Derek was up and he could remind him he was leaving.

_

Derek was at his desk reviewing the quarterly reports Alex had prepared so she could fax them to the Ruling House in London, when Nick walked in, bags in hand. He looked up, perplexed.

"Going somewhere?"

Nick nodded. "I told you a couple weeks ago. Today's the anniversary."

Derek nodded, remembering. "Any specific destination in mind?"

"Thinking maybe I'll head down to Mexico. Stay for a few days."

Derek stood and came round the desk. He stopped in front of Nick, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Take care. Call if you need anything."

Nick gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Now." Derek said, leaning down to pick up one of Nick's bags. "Let me help you out with this."

"You don't need to, I can manage."

"I know, but if I need a break from all this paperwork."

Nick's smile widened. "Quarterly report time?" he asked, hoisting his other bag onto his shoulder and following Derek out of the office.

"Why London feels we need to record every single movement we make, I'll never understand. Satan's still in hell and we regularly dispatch his minions. Why isn't that enough?" He asked, grabbing the handle of the front door and swinging it open.

Nick brought up his hand and grabbed the door as it swung in. "Maybe you should come with me. Sounds like you need a break too."

"Don't tempt me." Derek replied, placing the bag in the trunk of Nick's Mustang. "I promised to take over some classes for a friend of mine, a professor of anthropology at Berkeley."

"Sounds like a blast." Nick said, as he closed the trunk, walked to the driver's side door and slipped the key into the lock.

"Not as much fun as Mexico, but I'll manage. Be safe Nick." He said before he turned to go back into the house.

He grinned. "Always am." And gave a mock salute before sliding in behind the steering wheel.

_

Sam stared at the computer screen, his eyes bleary. "You're sure this is a succubus?" He asked his brother Dean as scrolled down page of the website he'd just entered. Dean, his mouth currently stuffed with one of the best cheeseburgers he'd ever had, nodded to his brother. It was quiet in the bar, a couple hours before the evening crowd came in, and the brothers sat together at the far end of the scratched wooden bar, Sam busily searching for articles about the men who had been found dead in and around Watsonville over the last three weeks.

The door opened, and the brothers looked over to see a young man walk in, about the same age as Dean in a worn leather jacket and faded jeans. He approached the bar and sat down two stools away from the brothers. The bartender busy washing glasses at the other side of the bar, walked over.

"What'll it be?" he asked

"Beer, whatever's on tap." the man replied.

Sam nudged Dean, nodded to the new arrival. Dean looked at the man, then back at Sam and shrugged his shoulders in a 'what?' gesture. Sam again nodded to the stranger, then down to his laptop.

"Excuse me?" The man asked, pointing at the bowl of peanuts to the right of Dean's lunch. "You guys eating those?"

"Nope. Have at it." Dean said, pushing the peanuts down the bar. Sam kicked him under the table and he glared at him. Seeing he was getting nowhere fast, Sam spoke up.

"I'm Gene Simmons and this is my partner, Paul Stanley. We're investigators."

"Nick Boyle. Hey, aren't those names of members of KISS?"

"We get that a lot. Yes, they are. Funny coincidence, huh?" Dean said.

"Yeah." The man replied.

Sam stood, grabbing his computer and moved to sit next to the stranger. "So, are you from around here?"

"San Francisco. Why?" He asked.

"We were wondering if you'd heard anything about the murders that have happened here."

Nick looked up and stared at Sam. "Murders?"

"Yeah. Three guys in as many weeks. Cops don't have a clue and the coroner can't tell what killed them or what happened to their eyes." He nodded to the computer screen where a photo of one of the victims was displayed. Nick stared at the photo, a body shown from the chest up, bruising to his shoulders, but what caught Nick's attention was the eyes, nearly black with blood. Images flashed into his mind of a case the Legacy handled a couple years ago. A case involving a succubus.

"Karen." He whispered, unaware he had spoken.

"I'm sorry?" Sam asked.

Nick looked up at him, and Sam saw the color had drained from his face. "I've seen this before, another time."

Dean looked over. "So, do you know what we're dealing with here?"

Nick looked back, pointedly. "Do you?" His bullshit detector, silenced briefly by shock, began sounding in his head. "Which department do you work for?"

The brothers looked to each other, then back to Nick. "Department?" Sam asked.

"Department. Police Department. Wait." Nick gave them a quick once over. "You guys aren't cops. Why are you interested in this case?" His bullshit detector was blaring now.

"We're private eyes." Dean answered. "Working for one of the families."

"Why has a family hired private detectives on a case that's still open?"

Again, the brothers looked at each other. Nick took his wallet from his jacket, pulled out a couple of bills and slapped them on the bar. "This conversation is over. I don't know who you guys are, but detectives you're not." He stood and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sam said, grabbing his arm. Nick turned, braced for a fight. Sam released his arm and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You're right. We're not detectives."

"Sam." Dean warned.

"What are you then, Sam?" Nick asked, derision dripping from his voice.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"We're hunters."

"Hunters?" Nick asked, relaxing his stance slightly. "What kind of hunters?"

"We hunt things most people think can't possibly exist." Sam answered.

"You know," Dean interjected, "ghosts, vampires, zombies, etc, etc, etc."

Nick's brow furrowed. "You guys work for a Legacy house?"

"Legacy house?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Nick countered. "Legacy house. Why else are you guys asking questions about a case involving a succubus?"

The brothers stared at each other, wide-eyed. Dean turned back to Nick. "I don't know anything about this 'Legacy' you're talking about, but if you know this is a succubus attack, we need to talk."


	3. Chapter 2

Nick stood there, debating for a moment, then gave a defeated sigh. "OK, let's grab a table and you show me what you've got."

Sam walked back to the bar to grab his laptop, while Dean and Nick headed to the most isolated table in the bar. As Sam sat down with them and opened his computer, the lone waitress on duty came over to their table.

"I'm Kelly, and I'll be your waitress today. What'll you have, boys?" Dean, ever appreciative of the female form, gave Kelly the once-over. Long black hair, brilliant blue eyes in a nicely tanned face. Curves in all the right places (breasts and hips), and a smile that packed a punch. He gave her his good ole boy grin as he pulled out a wad of bills.

"Hi there Kelly, we'll have a pitcher of whatever's on tap." He peeled a couple of bills from the wad and handed them to her. "Oh, and ah, get yourself something while you're at it." He peeled off another bill and handed it to her with a big smile. "On me." She took the extra bill, gave him a small smile and a thanks, then turned her thousand watt smile to Nick.

"Anything I can get you, sweetie?"

Nick, busy looking at the site Sam had pulled up on the murders, looked up for the first time since the waitress had arrived. "No thanks, I'm good." he replied, then resumed his reading. A strange look crossed over the waitress' face before she turned to leave, noticed only by Dean, and only because he was pissed at being given the brush-off. He watched as she walked back to the bar. She seemed tense, completely different from the easygoing face she'd just shown them. And for the first time, he noticed that save for him, Sam and Nick, the bar was empty. Not that he expected it to be crowded in the early afternoon on a Tuesday, but most bars usually had their resident boosters. And the bartender was a big, burly balding guy with wisps of wiry red hair wearing a wife-beater underneath a floral button up shirt and sucking on a lollipop. Weird.

"...Dean, _Dean!"_ Sam's voice broke into his thoughts, bringing him back to the task at hand. "What? What do you got?"

"Nick was just telling me about a run-in he had with a succubus a couple of years back."

Dean made a 'come on' gesture with his hand. "Tell me more." At that moment, Kelly returned, a tray with a frothy pitcher of beer and three mugs balanced on her right hand. She smiled at them, her gaze lingering on Nick.

"Here you go." She lifted the pitcher off the tray and placed it on the table, then passed each man a mug. Again, she focused on Nick. "Can I get you anything else?"

Dean, still annoyed at being rebuffed waved to get her attention. "I'd like some peanuts please."

Kelly tore her gaze from Nick and turned to Dean with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course. Be right back." She looked to Nick once more before turning to go. Again, this went unnoticed by Sam and Nick, but not by Dean.

Nick let out a breath, and once Kelly was out of earshot, began the story again. "One of my colleagues is a psychiatrist and she got a call from the sheriff down in Crest Ridge that one of her patients had been found dead in his car. There were signs that indicated he had had sex prior to his death, and his eyes were covered in dried blood." He pointed to the article. "Just like these guys. So I headed down there with her to look at the body to see if it was something he legacy should look into." He paused to take a swallow of his beer. "We went and saw the body and got the sheriff to agree to let Rachel have all the medical and police reports and were heading back to our hotel, when I decided to stop off at a local diner for some food while Rachel called to apprise our precept of what we'd found out, and that's when I met her." He took another sip of his beer. "She was a waitress at the diner. When she came to take my order I swear for a few seconds she looked like my girlfriend."

Dean interrupted. "But you knew she wasn't 'cause your girlfriend wasn't there."

Nick looked pointedly at Dean. " I knew she wasn't her because she's dead."

Sam and Dean shared a brief look. Sam turned back to Nick. "We're sorry man."

"Me too." Nick replied.

Dean cleared his throat. "So, what happened after that?"

"We started talking, and I met up with her again the next day. Part of me knew it wasn't a good idea, because we were looking for what we presumed was a woman killing men after sleeping with them, but I was drawn to her. I thought it was because I'd found someone I could relate to, the way I could with Julia, but now I know it was just part of who she was, her allure, the way she lured men into bed. And to their deaths." He sighed deeply, and took another swig from the beer.

"So, how did you figure out that it was her?" Sam asked. "I assume because you're alive you didn't sleep with her so..."

Nick lowered his eyes, and turned his head slightly toward the wall.

Dean's eyes widened. "Whoa, wait a minute, you slept with a succubus and survived? How?"

Nick shrugged and looked up. "I guess she liked me." A shadow on the table alerted the men to Kelly's return.

"Here's your peanuts." she said to Dean and sat the basket down on the table. She looked to Nick. "Hey, you ok? Nick, right, your friend I just heard him call you that."

Nick stared at her for a brief moment before responding. "Yeah, I'm ok. Just reliving some bad memories."

She reached down and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. You know, my mom always told me the way to erase a bad memory was to replace it with a good one. Maybe you should give it a try." She began to lightly rub his shoulder.

Nick smiled up at her awkwardly. "Thanks. Maybe I'll try that."

Dean, royally pissed now, cleared his throat. Kelly pulled her hand from Nick's shoulder as if she'd been burned. "Thanks." He nodded to her. "We need anything else, we'll holler, ok?" Again, she looked at him, her smile stopping just short of her eyes. "All right then. You boys enjoy." This time as she walked away, Dean noticed a definite stalk in her stride.

"So, how did you stop her?" Sam asked.

" She had mentioned wanting to go to San Francisco in one of our conversations, after I told her about one the piers. And after we... you know, she just vanished. So Derek, my precept, and I set up a trap for her on Pier 3, the one we'd discussed. When she showed up I got her defenses down by playing into her game, and managed to manacle her wrists, while Derek wrapped chains attached to a large weight around her ankles and we dropped her into the bay."

"Do you think its possible that these attacks are from this same succubus? That maybe somehow, she escaped?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Nick shook his head, "the chains and weight were heavy and the manacles were made of iron..."

Sam pushed on. "But it is possible?"

Nick nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, its possible."

Dean slapped his hands down on the table. "Okay. Now we know who and what we're dealing with, let's get moving, send this bitch back to hell where she belongs." With that he shrugged back into his jacket and stood.

"Wow, you don't waste any time do you?" Nick replied.

Dean gave him a sardonic grin. "Don't see the point. Seeing as you have all the great contacts and all, why don't we stop by your Legacy house, see if we can find out more about these murders than we already have. And see if anything strange has happened down by Pier 3."

Pretty much resigned to the fact that Mexico was not in his immediate future, and now uneasy wondering if Karen might be free, Nick grabbed his backpack from the seat beside him and stood. "Ok. let's go."

Sam closed his laptop and placed it in its carrying case, then also stood. They moved toward the door, passing Kelly who was busy wiping down a table. She looked up briefly, smiled at Nick, then returned to her task. Just as Dean reached for the door, they heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked. They turned to see the bartender, wisps of red hair sticking up from his pate, a shotgun aimed directly at them. "You guys ain't goin' nowhere."

Dean, used to using charm to extricate himself from sticky situations, smiled at the bartender. "Hey, we paid for the beer, what's the problem?"

Keeping the gun and his eyes trained on them, he nodded his head to the right. The guys followed the nod to the small television set sitting just behind and to the side of him. On the screen were each of their pictures with the word 'Wanted' above them and at the bottom of the screen were the words 'for murder.'

Nick stared incredulously. "What the hell?" He turned to the Winchesters. They shared a knowing look before Dean turned to Nick.

"Keep quiet. And follow my lead."


	4. Chapter 3

Dean raised his hands in a placating gesture. "This isn't what it looks like."

In response the bartender cocked the gun and re-aimed.

Just then, Kelly walked past. Since the bar was empty with the exception of Nick and the brothers, she had put headphones on while she dusted tables and swept, and was completely oblivious to the drama taking place. Seeing an opportunity, Dean reached out and grabbed her as she walked by, pulling her against him. He reached into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed his own gun, placing it against her head. She gave a small squeal of shock.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Nick incredulously.

Dean turned his head toward Nick. "Getting us the hell out of here." He turned back toward the bartender. "Put the gun down or I waste her." He demanded, grasping Kelly tighter. She gasped.

The bartender turned his shotgun on Sam. "Not before I blow a hole in your friend here."

"You might be able to get the shot off," Dean agreed, "but then you'll have to reload and I'll waste her and you." He pushed the gun tighter to Kelly's temple. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks.

The bartender hesitated a moment, then lowered his gun. Keeping Kelly close, Dean turned and pushed open the door, Sam and Nick following close behind. Dean pushed Kelly toward Nick's Mustang. Nick ran up beside him.

"What the hell was that?" He asked, moving in front of them.

"It was us not getting killed." Dean replied, side-stepping him to open the passenger side door and thrust the panicked waitress inside.

"Ok, we're out now, let her go."

"No, we're wanted and she's seen us, she stays with us." Dean slammed the door and turned to face him. "Look, we don't know what's happening here, but we do know the cops are looking for us, that they think we killed someone. If we run across any on our way, we need leverage, and a hostage is always leverage." He looked into the car at the frightened waitress, face wet with tears as she stared back defiantly.

Nick dropped his hands. "Okay, but no matter what happens, she doesn't get hurt. I don't budge on that." He turned to look at Kelly in the passenger seat and she gave him a weak smile.

"Okay, fine. Let's get going." Dean started walking toward the Impala.

Nick called to him, "Where are we going?"

"Your Legacy house. We need to figure out what's going on here, and that seems like the best place to start looking for answers."

Nick let out a deep sigh and walked around his car to the driver's side. He peered in and gave Kelly what he hoped was a reassuring smile before he opened the door and climbed in. While he didn't agree with Dean's methods, he knew he was right. If anyone would be able to help them discover what was happening, it was his fellow Legacy members.

Back inside the bar, shotgun tucked safely away, the Trickster raised a lollipop to his lips. While the sugary confection melted in his mouth, the rest of him morphed from the balding, middle-aged paunchy bartender into his original form. Smooth as silk, he thought to himself, smiling around the sucker. Now it was time for the succubus to do her part.


End file.
